


Just Get Some Sleep!

by penstrikesmidnight



Series: Superhuman AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, more angst than fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 09:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20776289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penstrikesmidnight/pseuds/penstrikesmidnight
Summary: Hajime and Tooru are in the midst of their third year at university when Tooru starts falling back into old habits that Hajime can't help him with this time.A brief study about how people with superpowers might deal with the mental side-effects of being a hero.





	Just Get Some Sleep!

**Author's Note:**

> Me: It's my first time posting! I should probably post something light and fluffy!
> 
> Also Me: But how about we explore PTSD in superheroes instead? At least it's a complete piece lol. I was not expecting this to become a series, but I have some ideas brewing so we'll see what happens. 
> 
> Mind the tags, it's kind of heavy. There are a few violent scenes that could be triggering. Also, while it's set in Japan, the school system is based on my own experiences, which are in America, so time might track differently. Something to keep in mind!

Most days Tooru hides the fact that he hasn’t slept pretty well. As his third year at university picks up steam, he claims he is just too busy studying for sleep. Besides, superhumans need less sleep than normal humans, he always claims. Hajime knows he is right, but he also knows that Tooru should at least get a full night’s sleep once a week, which he hasn’t been. So here they are, facing each other with the dining table between them, an interrogation and intervention at the same time.

“I just...worry, okay?” Hajime starts off as if they’re in the middle of the argument. Which, maybe they are because Tooru bites his lip the way he does before he either sucks it up and apologizes or charms his way into making Hajime regret ever fighting with him while not actually apologizing for anything. They both know Tooru hasn’t been sleeping and they both know Hajime has worried about it. “It’s just...the last time you did this was when you were still The Grand King and always working too hard...”

Tooru rolls his eyes. “But I stopped a war didn’t I? Iwa-chan I’m fine, promise! Midterms are ending, so I’ll sleep more!”

Hajime hesitates, studies Tooru’s expression but can’t see anything more than sincere earnestness lighting his big brown eyes. He feels himself melt, just a little, so he changes tactics, lets his vulnerability show, just the tiniest bit. “Mostly I miss sleeping next to you.”

Tooru’s eyes widen. He moves around the table to take the chair next to Hajime’s, wraps his arms around his waist, and lays his head on his shoulder. Hajime sighs but reciprocates. He is sure this conversation is over. This is the place where Tooru makes half-promises and Hajime smiles and agrees, knowing he is just going to have to watch extra carefully to see if Tooru gets worse or springs back like he claims. Unless he wants to start a real fight where Tooru will stop speaking to him and Hajime’s anger will boil until it spills over everything, culminating in Tooru threatening to leave him...

“If Iwa-chan missed me so much, he should have just said something.” Hajime reorients himself back into the conversation, and the fact that Tooru has shifted himself so he straddles Hajime’s lap, arms around his neck, nose just brushing his as their foreheads touch. “Sex is a good stress relief, you know, and it seems we’ve both been stressed lately for completely irrelevant reasons.”

“Your health is not irrelevant,” Hajime tries to protest, but Tooru presses his lips to the corner of Hajime’s mouth and it has been _so long_ since they have done this that Hajime cannot say no. 

They do not talk about it again.

Instead, Tooru gets better at hiding his sleeplessness as Hajime starts picking up on other signs of Tooru’s slow unraveling, which are addressed with sternness and fixed in a flash. For a few months Tooru convinces Hajime that, while he may not be getting a full night’s rest, he is sleeping every night, because he comes to bed and lets Hajime wrap his arms around him, which he didn’t used to do if he planned on leaving after Hajime fell asleep (which is not an uncommon occurrence). But Hajime wakes up alone more often than not with the scent of stale breakfast and the hushed tone of this news broadcast or that true crime podcast floating in the air even though the clock reads barely six thirty. Every time Hajime stumbles into the living room Tooru flips off the TV or plugs in his earphones, glancing at Hajime as if waiting for some sort of reprimand. Hajime wishes Tooru would stop listening to all the terribleness of the world, but Tooru does what he wants. 

And as finals approach Tooru’s bad sleeping habits start catching up to him. Now Hajime walks into their kitchen to find Tooru slumped over the bar, laptop open in front of him with notes on the anatomy of a superhuman’s nervous system or a paper on the psychological effects of the The Three Day War on civilians’ daily lives. 

“Hey,” Hajime says softly the first time it happens, resting a hand on the small of Tooru’s back. Tooru jumps, all of his muscles tensing as his head whips to Hajime. For a second Tooru’s eyes flash with silver, his teeth bared as if ready to defend himself. Hajime backs away, hands slightly out in front of him. Maybe to show Tooru he is unarmed or maybe to defend himself if his boyfriend decides to attack him. 

It is a strange three seconds that feel almost like a dream, especially when Tooru stretches as if nothing had just happened, a facade of mundanity falling over him like a veil. “Hi Iwa-chan, I didn’t hear you come in. Sorry my stuff is all over the place.”

“It’s fine.” Hajime can’t believe how neutral his voice sounds in this moment. His insides are tied together, twisting around each other like snakes in a hole. Tooru gives him a pretty smile, a _real_ smile, and Hajime’s gut tightens further. When did Tooru get so good at lying to him?

Hajime doesn’t know what to do, so the pattern continues. Sometimes Tooru rouses as soon as Hajime walks into the room, hastily covering up his work as if ashamed to be caught doing something so menial as homework. Other times Hajime has to make an effort to wake him. Those moments are always tense, Hajime waiting for Tooru to snap or attack him like the first time, but it doesn’t happen again. Maybe he imagined it. Maybe Tooru was just studying too hard, overworking himself in the only way left to him now that his time as The Grand King is done and his knee injury keeps him off the volleyball court. But Hajime can't help but feel that Tooru is a sprinter who has misjudged his pace, and the world will catch up to him before he crosses the finish line.

It gets to a point where sometimes even Hajime cannot rouse him, his body crying for a break. At those times Hajime moves Tooru’s heavy ass to the couch or the bed, whichever is closest, only for Tooru to wake up not even a half hour later, acting as if nothing had happened. But Hajime doesn’t miss the way Tooru’s eyes roam the apartment as if looking for an intruder every time he wakes up. 

“What the fuck are you looking for?” Hajime finally asks, exasperation clear in his voice. Tooru smiles sheepishly, pressing his hand to the back of his neck. It’s adorable and Hajime doesn’t have time to be distracted by it. 

“Oh nothing, Hajime. But you can’t be too careful, can you?” Hajime wants to point out that they live in one of the safest parts of Tokyo at Tooru’s insistence, and rent is a hell of a lot more for it, but he knows Tooru will counter with the fact that Tokyo is still a big city where crime is rampant. Instead he just unwinds Tooru’s fingers from his hair to lace them with his own. “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing, Iwa-chan, honest!”

Hajime sighs. 

Tooru bites his lip. “Iwa—Hajime. I know I’ve been acting weird. But I promise, it’s nothing. Sometimes I just get...in my head a little. Especially around this time of year. It will pass.”

Hajime pulls Tooru close to him, tucks him into his chest, wishing he could make him forget. Maybe not forget, exactly, but reassure him that those feelings of fear and desperation he’d clung to three years ago to survive are unnecessary now. “I love you. And I’m here and you’re here and we’re both safe.”

Hajime feels Tooru nod against him. “Sometimes...the thoughts. They just don’t leave.”

Hajime takes a deep breath. Hesitates. Tries to frame his thoughts in a way Tooru won’t dismiss immediately or snip at Hajime for mentioning. “You know it’s okay. If you talk to someone about it. Not even a professional. But maybe Kuroo. Or Bo.” 

Hajime senses Tooru’s wrinkled nose at his words. “Yeah I guess. But they’re busy playing volleyball so...”

Hajime knows all about Tooru’s deflecting so he treads carefully. “They’re our friends. They’ll be more than happy to set aside some time to chat I’m sure. We could set up a pick up game.”

That rouses Tooru. He glances up at Hajime, a slight glimmer of competition in his eyes. “Let’s do it Iwa-chan. We’ll crush them.”

That night after dinner Tooru falls asleep at the table while the two of them are studying for their calculus final. Hajime picks Tooru up—he has become pro at the best way to carry his boyfriend—and makes his way down the hall to their room. 

Maybe Hajime grabbed onto Tooru wrong, or maybe Tooru had sensed the way the light changed or heard Hajime accidentally shut the door to their bedroom too hard, but whatever it was Tooru suddenly starts bucking as if Hajime had abducted him. Surprised, Hajime drops Tooru, who springs up, the veins in his arms and his eyes glowing silver. Hajime feels a sharp sting and liquid dripping from his cheekbone, awfully close to his eye. Hajime and Tooru stare at each other, Tooru instantly back to normal, all of his strange silver blood tucked into his skin. 

“I...Hajime, I...”

Tooru’s eyes are wide in horror as he watches what Hajime can only guess is blood leak down his cheek from the gash Tooru had opened in his panic. It feels like Hajime has started crying but his eyes are dry. Without saying anything Hajime turns to go to the bathroom to clean himself up. 

Later he hears Tooru crying in their bedroom but decides not to go in. Mostly because he knows that would make Tooru feel more guilty, but also because Hajime is kind of scared. He has seen what Tooru can do with that silver blood, how he can wield it more accurately than a knife and just as deadly. He scrolls through products on Amazon made to quell superhuman abilities without harming them, but Tooru has always been cagey about them. Hajime finally flips over to his and Tooru’s text conversation. _Get some sleep dumbass. I’ll take the couch tonight. No arguing. _

Hajime gets comfortable on his makeshift bed, and before tucking his phone under his pillow he gets a text from Tooru that’s just a string of emojis. It gives Hajime some relief. Because if Tooru can respond in his usual crazy way, regardless of what it says, then he’s not too far gone into his own head.

***

Hajime hopes that once finals pass Tooru will get back to his normal sleep pattern which, while barely considered healthy, at least gives Tooru a consistent schedule. But finals come and go and if anything, Tooru is worse. After their incident, Tooru hardly ever sleeps in bed. Sometimes when Hajime is cooking dinner Tooru will doze on the couch with the ever present news a soft drone in the background. Every time Hajime thinks finally, finally he’ll get the rest he needs, within minutes Tooru will shoot up, panting, glancing around wildly as if he doesn’t know where he is. One time he wakes up sobbing so hard Hajime almost calls an ambulance because he is sure Tooru is dying.

If Tooru is not going to talk to someone, then Hajime will because their situation is getting out of control. All they do is tiptoe around each other and it is starting to become exhausting.

They schedule their pickup game the week before spring semester starts. The two of them had gone to visit Hajime’s parents for a few days for Christmas and had one painfully awkward dinner with Tooru’s mother on New Year's Day, but they had both decided to spend their holidays holed up together watching sappy Christmas movies and making cookies to deliver to friends and neighbors (but never actually delivering them) and generally be domestic. Everyone else is from Tokyo, so they don’t travel for the holidays which makes it a convenient time to schedule the game. 

Hajime is surprised when Tooru, the night before the game, starts having reservations. “I have to get so much ready for school. And I’m sure everyone else is busy...”

Hajime stares at Tooru, who gestures broadly to the room without looking at him. “You do realize we all planned this together? To make sure everyone could make it? We rescheduled, like, three times. And you’re never one to turn down volleyball.”

Tooru folds his arms, lets out a huff of breath. “I’m not supposed to play with my knee...”

Hajime turns away so Tooru cannot see the anger simmering under the surface. “Then you can bring your laptop and come watch us. We haven’t hung out with friends in months, Tooru, and we've canceled on them so many times; we can’t just cancel now.”

Hajime hears Tooru huff, hears him move toward the couch. Hajime almost, almost goes to get ready for bed, leaving Tooru to his own devices, but they’d been doing so good the past few weeks that he doesn’t want to go to bed angry. Instead he sits next to Tooru, who has pulled his knees up to his chin like a child and is glaring at the news. 

“What’s wrong, Tooru?”

Tooru's glare shifts to Hajime, and he unfolds himself so he can sit up straighter to argue. Hajime knows this look; he is a snake poised to strike. “Nothing! Why do you always think something’s wrong?! It’s like this constant nagging! Why don’t you sleep more, Tooru? You don’t eat enough anymore, Tooru. I need to rest my leg, I need to go be social, I need to do more homework, I should make up with my family, I shouldn't be informed about what's going on in the world, I need to stop worrying about everything!”

Hajime sits back, staring at Tooru as if he is a stranger. Because he is, in this moment. Hajime has tried _so hard_ to back off, to let Tooru find a balance that works for him. And now this. 

“Fuck you,” he says quietly. Tooru blinks, something about the tone in Hajime’s voice stopping him from continuing his tirade. “You’re the most selfish bastard sometimes, do you know that? The past three weeks almost felt normal but now we are right back where we started. You know what, don’t come tomorrow if you don’t want to. I’m tired of arguing with you; I’m tired of being the bad guy. Maybe I’ll see if I can crash at Kuroo and Kenma’s until school starts. Because you’re so _busy_ you don’t have time for anything else.”

Hajime doesn't know why he keeps pushing this because he knows how this will go. Tooru will get up, pack a bag and storm out of the apartment. He is always the one leaving. And this time maybe Hajime doesn’t care (he is trying so hard not to care). He will not ask Tooru to come back, he will not apologize for his blunt words, although he might concede he could have said them nicer. He’s just so _tired_ of it all.

And for a second it looks like Tooru might, his expression hard and emotionless, his muscles tense as if ready to jump out of his seat. They stare at each other, a game of chicken, waiting for the other to show weakness. But, to Hajime’s surprise, Tooru melts back into the couch, pulling his legs back to his chin. It makes him look young and vulnerable once again. 

Hajime already feels his anger crumbling to guilt. “Tooru, I’m sor...”

“Don’t,” he says, not looking up. “Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

He hesitates for a second, wondering what the right answer is, if there is one. “Fine," Hajime concedes, standing up. Tooru’s eyes meet his, wide with surprise, as if he were expecting Hajime to fight back. Instead, Hajime tells him goodnight and makes his way to the bathroom. He’s not going to bed angry, per se, but this slick feeling of guilt hanging in the back of his throat might be worse. 

***

Tooru pushes a plate of pancakes toward Hajime without looking up when he sits down with his coffee in the morning, Tooru’s way of apologizing without apologizing. They really should talk about it, but Tooru literally never reaches out to apologize first so Hajime just leaves it for the time being. 

Besides, they’ll probably have the same argument next week. 

Hajime shakes his head to clear his negative thoughts and starts into the pancakes. He feels Tooru’s eyes boring into the side of his face so Hajime turns to see Tooru's eager puppy dog eyes waiting for judgement. “Thanks. These are really good.”

Tooru’s face brightens. “We haven’t had pancakes for breakfast in awhile so I thought I’d make some.”

“Since they’re the only thing you can make.”

“Liar! I can cook lots of things.”

Hajime leans over and kisses Tooru on the cheek, which shuts him up for a few seconds so Hajime can eat in peace. 

“So, what’s the plan today?” Hajime asks without thinking as he takes his dishes to the sink.

“Um, nothing really. I went out and bought our textbooks this morning—they’re over there.” Tooru gestures toward their small study corner, complete with a desk, which Hajime has no idea whether or not is actually used because he never uses it. “So maybe we can go out to lunch? My treat. And then whatever until...until volleyball tonight.”

Hajime hums but doesn’t comment on the stumble, just continues washing the dishes. Tooru has slid up behind him, wrapped his arms around Hajime’s waist with his chin perched on his shoulder. “You can help with the dishes if you want.”

Tooru mumbles something unintelligible but Hajime gets the gist when Tooru kisses the back of his neck. Hajime tries to ignore it, putting the silverware he’d been holding into the dish holder, because there were only two more plates left...

But Tooru keeps mouthing at his neck, and then the shell of his ear and the base of his jaw, effectively stopping all thoughts from running on about chores and pulling them onto his boyfriend. Hajime turns around and wraps his arms around Tooru’s waist to pull him closer. 

“Ew, Iwa-chan got my shirt all wet!” Tooru laughs then strips himself of it. Hajime swallows, admiring the lines of his bare shoulders, his slim waist, the wide expanse of pale skin now visible, then pulls Tooru toward the couch because their bedroom seems like an eternity away at this moment. Tooru follows complacently, hands wandering up Hajime’s shirt. They used to do this all the time, their apartment full of love and intimacy, but as school and exhaustion ramped up they just hadn’t had the energy. 

They’re getting into it, Tooru successfully getting Hajime’s shirt off as well as his pajama bottoms, breath heavy and mingling and warm when Tooru speaks, lips pressed against Hajime’s. “You...You aren’t mad at me, right? Please don’t be mad. I love you so much, so much and...”

Hajime sits away from Tooru, eyes wide. “Are you _crying_?” Tooru never cried. He didn’t cry when they lost to Karasuno, didn’t cry when Hajime found him in the relief tent after the Three Day War, didn’t cry when he was told he would never play volleyball professionally. And they fought _all the time_. Maybe not recently and maybe not about this particular problem, but Hajime always griped and Tooru always yelled and sometimes it got so big one of them left for awhile but they always came back together. 

“No! Yes! I don’t know. I’m so tired, I can’t stop my brain from thinking, and we’ve just been fighting all the time and I don’t know what to do and I just want you to love me...”

Tooru chokes on a sob, breaking away to rub the tears from his cheeks. Hajime swallows, hating the way Tooru looks so defeated. In high school Tooru used to have all sorts of self-confidence issues, but it had been awhile since Hajime had had to talk Tooru out of one of his moods. 

“Hey,” Hajime says softly. He tugs gently at Tooru’s wrists until he allows Hajime to wrap his arms around him. For as tall as Tooru is he’s always been good at folding himself into the spaces next to Hajime so they fit together like the gears of a clock.

Hajime hears Tooru still sniffling but at least he stopped sobbing. Hajime strokes a hand through Tooru’s soft wavy hair, feels the tension slowly leave both of their bodies. “Let’s tackle the easiest one first. I promise I love you, and that’s not changing anytime soon. Okay? And...and I’m sorry we’re fighting but we had a good holiday right?”

Tooru nods, fingers tracing meaningless designs on Hajime’s stomach. They sit for a few minutes, Hajime trying to stay focused on the topic at hand, but Tooru’s nuzzling his nose into this sensitive spot on Hajime’s neck, and Tooru's hand keeps dipping lower, and lower...

Hajime does not stay focused on their conversation. 

Afterward, Hajime and Tooru lay curled together on the couch, Tooru’s fingers carding through Hajime’s hair. "I feel like things are changing and I can't keep up," Tooru admits.

Hajime takes Tooru's hand, kisses his palm. "We'll work on it together, okay?"

Tooru sighs dramatically. "I guess if Iwa-chan insists on fixing my perfect personality..."

"Yeah, yeah, get off me so we can get showered. I'm looking forward to the rest of the day of you groveling."

"Oikawa-san does not grovel! Hajime come back!"

Hajime laughs as Tooru chases him down the hall. They're late to lunch but that's okay because Tooru does, in fact, treat Hajime to his favorite meal and dessert.

***

To Tooru's credit he does not flat-out say he feels upset about going to see their friends, but he has never been good at hiding exactly what he feels. Hajime just hopes that no one else catches onto the strange vibes coming off of Tooru. 

They sit in the parking lot for a few minutes in silence, Tooru fiddling with his knee brace, Hajime admiring the stark, snowy tree branches frosted by moonlight. They are the last ones to arrive which is perfectly in line with their normal appearances anyway. "Let's just get this over with already."

Hajime follows Tooru into the gym. It always amazes Hajime how physically his boyfriend puts on his public mask—shoulders back and straight, chin tilted up, an intensity in his eyes as if he wants to confront every conversation with war tactics. Hajime hates it, but he has grown used to it so he just sighs as they enter the gym.

"Yo, I thought you two were gonna no show," Kuroo calls out as they drop their bags on the bleachers. "But I'm glad you finally graced us with your presence." Hajime sees Tooru scowl into his bag before turning with a well-placed sneer.

"Because you're such great company, Tetsu-kun. Always accommodating and lovely to be around."

Hajime cuffs the back of Tooru's head as he heads toward their group.

"He's not wrong," Akaashi mutters to no one in particular. 

"Be nice," Bokuto also says to the air but shoots Akaashi a stern glance. "_I'm_ glad everyone's here!"

Hajime bumps into Tooru "accidentally" so it distracts him from starting a fight with Bokuto. Hajime really likes Bokuto, but Tooru has always seen weakness where Bokuto's genuine enthusiasm and naivety lie. Maybe Hajime has a soft spot for Bokuto because of the fact that they are both dumb outside hitters who don't want to think about anything other than playing their favorite game. 

"We were thinking Kuroo, Iwaizumi, and me against Kenma, Oikawa, and Koutarou," Akaashi says in his quiet, steely voice that brokers no room for argument.

"But I wanna play with Iwa-chan!" Hajime knows if they don't settle this Tooru will storm out of here. He turns to placate his boyfriend but is surprised to see his usual whiny antics are just that, no hint of anger underneath.

"Well then, we can play you, Iwaizumi, and Kenma against me, Koutarou, and Kuroo," Akaashi says drily. 

"If you didn't notice, they keep splitting us up, Kenma. It's because we're the best."

"Shut up, Tetsurou, it's because you're a terrible spiker and I only set," Kenma mutters but not before Akaashi says, "Fine. Kuroo, Kenma, and Oikawa against me, Koutarou, and Iwaizumi."

"Hell no!" Tooru exclaims. "That's a little one-sided! And before you get mad at me, Kenma said it first."

"But I thought you were the best player here," Hajime says with a grin.

"Fine, we'll go back to the original plan," Tooru sulks. "But next time Iwa-chan and I will crush you."

"And this time, _I’ll_ crush you," Hajime whispers in Tooru's ear, nipping it lightly before jogging off to his side of the court. He hears Kuroo’s terrible laugh and knows Tooru must be blushing. He hopes this resets whatever it is in Tooru’s brain that tells him he’s unsafe, unwanted, unlovable.

They play. It’s the first time in months Hajime has felt so carefree, so relaxed. When he meets Tooru’s eyes after he’d failed to keep one of Tooru’s serves in play he realizes this is fun. He and Tooru hadn’t had fun together like this in months. He wants this back. 

***

Hajime's team loses the first set miserably but then miraculously win the next two. “I need a break,” Hajime says.

“No!” Tooru and Bokuto yell at the same time. “Those last two wins were flukes!”

“I don’t think two in a row is a fluke,” Akaashi says. “But we mere humans need to sit down for a minute. At least drink water, Koutarou.”

“Aw, Keiji!” Bokuto protests but follows Akaashi off the court like a puppy, circles and everything. Hajime grabs both his and Tooru’s water. He throws Tooru his bottle when he holds up his hand for it. “Thanks, babe!” He winks. Hajime rolls his eyes, but can’t be mad as he watches Tooru rile Kuroo into blocking some of his spikes. Hajime runs to the bathroom and then refills their water before going back to the gym. 

“Hey,” Akaashi says as Hajime sits next to him. Hajime follows Akaashi’s gaze to where Kuroo and Bokuto are facing off, Oikawa poised to set for Bo.

“I have a question,” Hajime starts, not taking his eyes off Tooru even when he feels Akaashi turn his attention from the game. He doesn't really want to break this moment, but if he doesn't now, he doesn't know when he actually will. He doesn't want to fall into the same habits of denial Tooru is currently experiencing. “Does Bo...I don’t know. Does he still think about the Three Day War?”

Hajime turns his head in time to see Akaashi’s eyes widen. But he answers quickly. “Yeah, of course. We talk about it sometimes. Why?”

Hajime looks back at his boyfriend, who looks exhausted and small when he stands there alone, his mask slipping. A gust of wind from the door would probably knock him down. “Tooru...hasn’t been sleeping. He said it’s the time of year, but now it’s been two months since the anniversary. And it started before then.”

“Did he do that?” Akaashi gestures with his head toward Hajime’s cheek. Hajime resists the urge to cover the cut that should have healed weeks ago, but Tooru’s powers make healing extremely slow. Instead, he nods. “It’s not very distinctive, but Tooru’s cuts are always thin and precise like that.”

“It was an accident,” Hajime says, hating how helpless his voice sounds.

“Tetsurou sleeps with a suppressor,” Kenma says, back from the bathroom, “because one time he clawed our bed up in his sleep. There were feathers and mattress stuffing everywhere.” Kenma did not look amused at the memory.

“Tooru isn’t even sleeping,” Hajime admits for the second time, and it feels like relief every time he says it. “I think he’s maybe slept a half an hour in the past week.”

Kenma’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s not good.”

“Tell me about it.”

They sit in silence for a minute, watching the three superhumans goof off with the volleyball.

“I made Koutarou set up appointments to see a psychiatrist about two years ago,” Akaashi says softly. Both Kenma and Hajime turn toward him. “He still goes. Says it’s helpful. He used to...” Akaashi swallows a few times before continuing, his voice thick, “he used to say things, about how the world would be better without him. Because his power was a curse. And then one day...one day he went on a walk. For _hours_. Not answering my calls or texts. He’s always dealt with a bit of depression but never that bad. I thought he’d hurt himself. So as soon as he walked in the door I gave him a list of doctors and told him we were going tomorrow and we would find one that worked. It took a few tries but we finally found one who works really well with him.”

“Akaashi...” Hajime starts to say but Akaashi shakes his head, his fingers twisting around each other. 

“I just wanted to let you know that we have problems too. But there’s always a way to work through them.” Kenma nods. Hajime watches him fiddle with his phone, locking and unlocking the screen as if he wants out of the conversation but knows how important it is. 

Hajime sighs. “Tooru doesn’t even want to talk to you guys, much less a doctor. You know how stubborn he is. I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, if he doesn’t do anything, you need to consider your safety,” Akaashi says, ever the blunt one of their group. “If the only way to get Tooru to acknowledge this as a problem is if you get seriously wounded, the risk isn’t worth it.”

Hajime presses his lips together and looks back to Tooru, who has now started serving the ball over to Bokuto. Kuroo makes his way to where they sit, dropping down next to Kenma. He leans across Kenma to grab a water bottle, and Kenma shies away, lips curled in disgust. “Don’t touch me, you’re all sweaty and gross.”

“Aw, but Kenma...” Kenma bats Kuroo’s hand away as he reaches for his face.

“Why do you push it? You know I’ll make you sleep on the couch.” 

“Kenmaaaaa...” Kuroo pouts. Hajime bites his lip as Kuroo ends up with a leg tucked under Kenma’s as a silent compromise.

“Anyway, I heard the tail end of your chat. There was a month or so when Kenma and I didn’t live together. I was a little...intense.”

Kenma scoffs. “You wouldn’t let me out of your sight for longer than two minutes. I counted once. And you almost tore up the couch in the library when that creep tried to pick me up.”

“I could have handled that better, I'll admit. But the moral of the story is that we talked, he moved out, and I was pretty upset until I realized how...I don’t know...dependent, I had been on my powers. I didn’t know how to be someone without them. We all have things to work on. It’s not anything to be ashamed of.”

“But how do I tell Tooru that?” Hajime asks. “I get it. I want to help him. I want to get help myself.”

“I don't know, man,” Kuroo says. "Bo just needed a nudge. For me, it took Kenma leaving. Tooru seems to fall more on my side of things."

Hajime watches Tooru and Bokuto. They're standing next to each other, Tooru biting his lip as he listens to whatever Bokuto is saying. Usually he can bully Tooru into doing whatever, but their last blowup fight clearly proved this was not the case in this situation. 

Hajime does not like this feeling of hesitation, of not knowing how to fix this. Because Hajime is a bullheaded go-getter, used to wrestling things into submission if they do not fall into place naturally. But he cannot force Tooru to do anything he does not want to do, and right now Tooru can't even open up about what is going on with him to someone he knows, much less a stranger.

"I guess I'll think of something," Hajime sighs, standing up to signal their break should end. Kenma makes a face.

"If you come play one more set we can go to that 24 hour cafe and play whatever you want all night," Kuroo says, jostling his leg a little so Kenma's bounces on top of his.

"Even if it's Mario Party?" Kenma asks skeptically.

Kuroo sighs heavily. "Even if it's Mario Party."

Kenma smirks as he stands up to meander his way back to Tooru and Bokuto.

"He always threatens it, but it's never Mario Party," Kuroo confides in them. "Now let's get this done because I have a date."

***

The next few days are normal, much to Hajime's surprise. Classes start, and with them Tooru seems to have constructed a new routine. There doesn't seem to be much sleeping involved, but Tooru's moods seem to have stabilized.

Hajime almost, almost lets his guard down.

One night a few weeks into their new semester, Hajime wakes up to murmuring. He turns in bed to see Tooru's face next to his. That's a surprise in itself, since Tooru almost never sleeps in bed now days. He's also alarmed to see tears fringing his eyelashes. "Tooru. Hey, Tooru, wake up. What's wrong? Everything's okay."

Tooru's eyes flash open, silver quickly absorbing his usual warm brown irises. Hajime dives off the bed right as Tooru lunges toward him, a stream of silver barely missing his shoulder. "Tooru!" Hajime yells, voice choking off as Tooru tackles him from behind. Hajime kicks Tooru's groin, giving him a lifesaving second to wrestle out of his grip. Hajime scrabbles for anything on their nightstand to use to defend himself as Tooru recovers. He's never been so scared in his life, bar the ten minutes he thought he would probably die during the Three Day War before he just ended up sitting bored next to Akaashi for the three days.

He grabs a half-full glass of water and smashes it against Tooru's head twice before it breaks. It barely stops him. Hajime feels Tooru clawing at his neck. "Stop! Tooru! Please."

Tooru suddenly does, lying on top of him with his fingers around Hajime's throat. Hajime watches his eyes change back to normal, watches confusion and then horror fill them. He scrambles back, hitting the bed.

"Haji...Hajime. What...I'm sorry! Your arm...Shit, should I call an ambulance?"

Hajime glances down to see blood coating his forearm. It was probably blood. Most likely. It was too dark to actually see.

Tooru sprints to the bathroom, flipping on the lights as he goes. Hajime swallows, trying to stop his body from shaking. He forces himself to study his arm. He thinks it's fine--there are three shallow cuts close to his elbow, with one nasty gash from the broken glass that nicked the inside of his forearm. It might scar. He presses his other hand against it, hissing when his shoulder twinges. The shoulder he landed on when this whole thing started.

Hajime listens to Tooru swearing as he slams cupboards open and shut. He stares at the blood trickling through his fingers. He loves Tooru so much. He doesn't think he can keep doing this.

"Hey, Hajime, come here. Let me see your arm." Hajime allows Tooru to take his wounded arm in his hands. He's trembling worse than Hajime, his fingers unsteady as they run an antiseptic wipe over the open wounds. "I should call someone..."

"No," Hajime croaks. He clears his throat. "No, I'm fine. I'll...I think I should leave though."

Tooru's hand tightens on Hajime's wrist. He stays silent, cleaning then bandaging the open cuts. He keeps his eyes down on his task. Hajime doesn't know if it's because Tooru can't face Hajime or if he can't face the bruises Hajime feels forming on his neck. He probably also has one on his cheek.

"You're bleeding too," Hajime finally says when the two of them have sat unmoving for almost ten minutes, Tooru's hand gripping his wrist long after he finishes cleaning Hajime's scratches. Tooru's hand slowly reaches up to his temple where blood has matted his hair to the side of his face.

"You're lucky you hit me there," Tooru says, voice shaky. "If not, I might not have stopped."

"What were you dreaming about?" Hajime asks. He should have asked months ago, although at this point it is like asking for directions to their favorite ramen shop.

Tooru folds his arms. "I don't..." He stops talking. Hajime watches himself fold tighter into himself. "I don't understand why this is happening. It's been _years_ since that damn war. I don't use my power anymore, I don't save people or work with rescue teams. I'm away from it all, so _why does this keep happening_?"

Hajime rolls his shoulders, breathing through the pain. It doesn't feel dislocated, but he should probably have someone check it out in case. "It doesn't matter why. It matters that it is, and you won't go get help. I love you, so much, but...I can't do this anymore. Akaashi was right. My life is not worth your life lesson."

Tooru flinches as if the words have physically whipped him. "Are you...Are you moving out? Forever?"

"Are you going to get help?" Hajime retorts. He stands, careful of the broken glass. He sits on the bed as his vision wobbles. Tooru wipes tears off of his cheeks when he thinks Hajime isn't watching, but Hajime is always watching. It boggles Hajime's mind that Tooru doesn't understand that yet. How he wants, so badly, to be here for Tooru through everything, but he can't do it one sided. It has become exhausting and reckless.

"You have people to talk to. Bokuto. Kuroo. They have gone through the same fucking things! They are your best friends. And all you have done is push them away. You've pushed me away too. You can't do this by yourself, Tooru. But I can't force you to let anyone help you. You have to do that part yourself." Hajime stands again, this time firm on his feet. He ruffles Tooru's hair on the way past, squeezes Tooru's hand when Tooru reaches up.

"Please," Tooru whispers. Neither of them are sure what he is asking.

"I'm always here for you," Hajime says. "And while I'm gone, get some damn sleep. Text me in the morning, okay? See you in class? I love you."

Tooru nods. Hajime turns away to stuff some clothes into a bag as Tooru presses his hand to his mouth.

Hajime calls Akaashi as he closes the apartment door. Usually he would bug Kuroo, but it is the middle of the night and Bokuto is much more understanding than Kenma.

"Iwaizumi-san, is everything all right?" Akaashi asks the second time Hajime calls, voice groggy.

"No, not really," Hajime lets out a shaky laugh. He feels tears start to form in his eyes. The first time he has cried since this whole sleepless debacle started. "Can I crash at your place for the rest of the night? And maybe the week."

"Yes, of course. Are you alright?"

"I'll be there in about ten minutes. Thanks."

He hangs up before Akaashi can question him further. He shifts his duffle bag higher on his shoulder then troops down the street alone. If he stops on the way to mourn his relationship going up in flames, no one needs to know.

***

Akaashi opens the door after two knocks, looking fairly unruffled if still in his pajamas. Hajime wonders if Akaashi ever looks anything less than perfect. He wonders how he does it with Bokuto as his boyfriend. "Iwaizumi-san, come in."

"Thanks. I'm sorry it's so late..."

"It is fine. I made tea." Akaashi gestures Hajime into the apartment. Hajime toes off his shoes and drops his duffle bag in the front room before following Akaashi around the corner to their kitchen. He drops onto a stool as Akaashi pushes a teacup toward him. 

Hajime hears a gasp, which alerts him to Bokuto's presence. "Iwaizumi, what happened?"

"Koutarou, please..."

"No, it's okay." Hajime takes a sip of the tea. It tastes like comfort, like coming home after a long vacation. He feels his shoulders relax, feels himself breathe easily for the first time since he left his apartment. "Tooru...had a nightmare."

Akaashi's mouth thins, his fingers twisting together. "I told him I can't come back until he gets help. Most of it isn't him, actually, I broke a glass..."

"I'm sure you didn't strangle yourself," Akaashi snaps before taking a deep breath. "I apologize."

"Is...Um, is Tooru okay? He seems a little...stressed. Or lost." Bokuto asks quietly. Akaashi's fingers tighten but he waits for Hajime's answer.

"Yeah, I don't think he's doing so great. I mean, I only gave him a small cut tonight. But of course he's feeling guilty. He probably won't sleep. He might not make his morning classes." He doesn't answer Bokuto's implied questions. Hajime swallows the lump of guilt forming in his throat. He knows Tooru better than he knows himself. Maybe that is where everything went wrong. If Hajime knows everything about Tooru, what does Tooru know about himself?

"And you? What about you? Keiji and I haven't ever split up, but sometimes we fight and it sucks. I always feel like I can't do anything right, even volleyball, when we argue. And Kuroo and Kenma are no fun to be around because they refuse to take sides..."

Akaashi places a hand on Bokuto's arm. Bokuto smiles and kisses Akaashi's cheek. "Sorry. I ramble when I'm tired."

Hajime smiles. Bokuto rambles all the time, not just when he is tired. "It's fine. I'm...as good as I can be, I guess. I hate that I can't do anything to fix this. But the ball is in Tooru's court now. He's the one to decide to keep playing or walk away. I'm already in."

Akaashi nods. "Do you want another cup?" Hajime shakes his head no. Akaashi collects the glasses, turns to wash them in the sink. "You can stay here as long as you like--we have the spare bedroom and futon. I am sure Oikawa-san will ask for help though, if only to get you to move back home. He loves you a lot. I am sure tonight frightened him immensely."

Hajime blinks away tears. He hopes Akaashi's prediction comes true, but he knows how stubborn Tooru is. How his pride keeps him motivated, keeps him functioning when nothing else seems to, not even Hajime. Sometimes Hajime wonders if Tooru loves his pride more than he loves his boyfriend.

"I think I'm going to bed," Hajime says. "Sorry to wake you up."

"Not a problem. Koutarou already set up the futon for you."

Bokuto gave Hajime one of his famous bone-crushing hugs which everyone usually tried to avoid, but this time Hajime could safely say he was thankful to receive one.

***

Tooru is sitting in their usual spot in class the next day when Hajime enters the room. Hajime had given it a fifty-fifty shot whether or not Tooru actually showed up. But there he is, hunched small, head bowed over his phone emanating an aura of insecurity. Hajime hates seeing him this way.

Hajime takes a breath before walking down the stairs toward Tooru. "Hey."

Tooru jumps, his phone thumping down on the desk. He is wearing his glasses, something that virtually never happens. His hair is flat, the dark smudges under his eyes prominent on his paler-than-usual skin. He looks like someone has erased his usual vibrant colors, leaving just sharp outlines. "Hi Iwa-chan. I was afraid you weren't going to come to class today."

Hajime smiles as he sits. "Funny, I thought the same thing about you."

"I'm glad you're here though," Tooru says, voice quiet. He tentatively reaches out. Hajime grasps his hand and feels Tooru's muscles relax in relief. "Are you...Did you say you went to Bokkun and Akaashi's?"

"Yeah," Hajime says. "I think Bokuto and I will start going to the gym before breakfast."

He watches Tooru swallow, feels Tooru's grip on his hand tighten. Tooru has always been overprotective of their relationship, but Hajime feels a strange sense of pride when Tooru just moves on to tell him about his first lecture of the day. Hajime wants to ask him if Tooru has thought about what happened last night, if any of it scared him into action, but he refrains. Tooru will tell him when he is ready. 

After about two weeks of the same--Hajime and Tooru meeting up for lunches or grabbing a snack after their shared lectures--Hajime has to seriously consider moving into an apartment by himself. He can only look at apartment listings for about five minutes before he wants to cry. Because if he finds a new place, that means the next step is to break up with Tooru, which is not anything he wants to contemplate. 

But. But he really should. It is not healthy to stay stuck in a relationship that isn't moving, that might never move again. He doesn't think about it as often as he should.

He also starts seeing the school psychologist. Not very often, but since it's a resource open for him, he figures why not? And it's okay--better than he thought it would be. They talk about his and Tooru's relationship, but they don't talk about Tooru alone as often as he thought they would, which he finds relieving and strangely motivational.

After three weeks Hajime feels like a parasite encroaching on Bokuto's and Akaashi's space--to which Akaashi assures Hajime he is not and Bokuto insists it is amazing to have a bro to go to the gym with. But Hajime knows he has to make a decision.

He texts Tooru. _Can we go get dinner tomorrow? We should probably talk._

Tooru leaves him on read for almost three hours. He would be upset, but he sees the reply dots come and go the whole time. He knows Tooru knows what this is about.

Before he goes to bed he finally gets his underwhelming answer. _Sure Hajime! Anything for you._ He gets a flurry of kissing and heart emojis afterward. He sighs but falls asleep smiling. He doesn't remember the last time that happened.

***

Hajime can tell Tooru is nervous by the way he rocks back on his heels, then up to his toes a few times before aborting the motion. He has his hands deep in his coat pockets, and he is looking the other way as Hajime walks up to him outside of the restaurant they agreed to meet at.

"Why didn't you go inside? You're going to catch a cold."

"Ah! Hi, Hajime! I just got here. Let's go in." Hajime follows Tooru, who brightly converses with the hostess, then makes friends with their waiter before proceeding to regale Hajime with tales of his lectures from that day. It is Tooru's tried and true way of procrastinating. Hajime would get irritated if he didn't feel so relieved that they didn't have to have this conversation yet.

By the time their dinner is served Hajime thinks maybe he's too much of a coward to have this conversation today. Maybe he'll talk about it next week, or surprise Tooru after one of their classes together.

Tooru goes strangely quiet when their dinner arrives, picking at his food listlessly. It is like he knows Hajime's thoughts. Hajime finds his appetite suddenly gone as well so they both sit there avoiding each other's gazes and the food on their plates.

"Tooru, listen..."

"No, Hajime wait! I need to talk first, okay?" Hajime blinks in surprise. He watches Tooru rummage in his pockets with shaking hands. "I...Well, I've been seeing someone. Someone who specializes in superhuman psychology. Kuroo told me about them--apparently he's done some shadowing...anyway it doesn't matter. I have a plan, see, we've been working on it. I keep track of my sleeping and everything. But I didn't want to tell you because...because I'm not always very good at it. Sometimes I still freak out. I bought a suppressor but I don't like to use it all the time. I broke our lamp, I'm sorry, I'll buy a new one. I don't want you to break up with me. I'll work harder, I'll do better. Please."

Hajime stares at Tooru. He stares back, like a child ready to be reprimanded for not getting perfect grades. But all Hajime sees is the work he's done, all this work Hajime would not have guessed Tooru was doing. Hajime feels like a terrible boyfriend for thinking that Tooru would not be doing everything he could to salvage their relationship.

"I've...been seeing someone too," Hajime finally manages to say. Tooru's eyebrows crease. Hajime reaches over the table to cup both of Tooru's hands between his own. "Of course I'm not going to break up with you when you're trying so hard." Hajime's not sure if he feels comfortable moving back in quite yet, but with all Tooru's work spread out on the table before him, he knows there's a goal to work toward. "We can work together. That's what a relationship is, after all."

"Really?" Tooru asks, eyes wide with hope. 

"Of course," Hajime answers. Tooru smiles at Hajime then laughs as if his excitement is too big to contain. Hajime laughs too because this meeting has become a celebration instead of the funeral Hajime had expected.

"I love you, Hajime," Tooru whispers in his ear as they part that night, gripping his neck tightly.

"I love you too, Tooru," he whispers back. When Tooru pulls away he is smiling. He turns back around to wave at Hajime before he turns the corner for his bus stop because he knows Hajime will wait until Tooru's out of sight before he leaves.

When Hajime gets back to his temporary home, he looks at apartment listings with month-to-month rent close to his permanent home, because when the time comes to move back in, he doesn't want to have any more hesitations.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are welcome, but I get it if you don't want to, because same (I have this great fear of posting anything online, even comments, so this was a big step for me). Kudos are great and appreciated! Until next time!


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